The Broken Wall
by FairMaiden333
Summary: We all know how the Kira case ended. But herein lies the story of how the battle for the shinigami realm, between the rightful rulers and the usurper, began, and the part those we know played in it. What dark secrets are brought to light after life ends?
1. A Guardian Alone

_Dear Audience,_

_Here am I, beginning a multi-chapter fic instead of updating any of my ongoing fan fictions. Yes, I am evil. Yes, I regret nothing. And if you find this story totally incomprehensible at first, you have my full sympathy._

_Myself and my co-author, Spinner Beech, were inspired to write this by another fan fiction where the author took a movie and read an elaborate fantasy interpretation out of clues in the background and in what the characters said and did. We happened to be searching Death Note pictures while we read it, and one thing led to another. _

_For those interested in exactly what we based the ideas for the story off of, we'll be uploading some notes to the chapters we post shortly._

_I must ask readers to please review and tell us what you think - we'd like to hear how the Death Note fandom at large receives the story. And without further ado - except the disclaimer - here it is._

_~ FairMaiden333_

_Disclaimer__ - I do not own Death Note, except in a strictly Pickwickian sense. _

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><p><strong><em>Chapter 1<em>**

**A Guardian Alone**

The landscape was bleak: rolling dunes and valleys of reddish stone and sand where ridges of black rock and stark white bone thrust their way up towards a murky sky. Here and there, in the places where the higher ridges sheltered some poor soil, half-dead trees bore withered fruit and leaves on their twisted branches. Everywhere were tangles of bone, great and small, as if the place were nothing more than one monstrous graveyard, unfit for any living creature.

Yet far below, a figure toiled through the deathlike world.

Matt wearily kicked a small skull out of his path with his boot, thinking to himself that the amount of pleasure it gave him to hear it rattle away and break apart against a rock was pathetic. But after more than a week slogging through this hellish place, he'd take any excitement he could get. His legs were aching fiercely from the long trek he'd made, and his stomach was growling and empty, desperate for something other than the shrunken fruit he'd been forcing himself to eat when he got too hungry.

"What I wouldn't give for a cigarette," Matt said under his breath, pausing to lean against a ridge of stone and look back the way he'd come. The sand had already filled in his footprints, as if he'd never been there at all.

For a terrifying moment, the dull, mindless lethargy he'd been fighting ever since he'd found himself in this place swept over his mind, and he narrowed his eyes as he tried to remember. _Had _he been there? What had he been doing? Almost without realizing it, Matt slid down the rock until he could rest his back against the stone. Why was he bothering to keep going when he could just sit down here and rest for a while…

_Mello._

With a jolt, Matt staggered to his feet, glaring at the rock as if it were the reason his mind had betrayed him. "I'm looking for Mello," he told it hotly, his stomach clenching at the disturbing knowledge that, even for one moment, he had forgotten. "I have to find him."

Turning away, he scanned the horizon again, trying to decide which way to go. His Prince was here somewhere, he knew that with an absolute certainty, but it was where 'here' was that was bothering him. Surely - surely this could not be the Shinigami Realm? They should have been transported home when they died, but this place - broken, dead, and desolate - was nothing like what his vague memories and what knowledge he held as the Prince's Guardian had led him to expect. And the strange, forgetful weariness which he was fighting against even now was definitely hostile to everything that he was…

_We knew something had gone terribly wrong. We knew that there was some twisted power at work, but this… _Matt let out a long, slow breath. _We never expected anything this bad. No, we must be somewhere else. But where - no. Can't stay here thinking. First things first. Find Mello. Protect Mello. Can't be too hard, right? Hahaha. Right. Because Mello's always been the kind to stay out of trouble…_

Matt directed his steps towards a grove of stunted trees a little distance away, turning over a fresh plan in his mind as he did. As yet, he'd gone out of his way to avoid any of the strange creatures he'd seen every now and then, grouped together in hollows or sitting in what seemed to be solitary contemplation. He had no way of knowing what they were, who they were working for, after all. But at this point, he'd have to take the risk and approach one of them. He'd be no use to Mello if he kept wandering around in this aimless manner.

"Better target one of the solitary ones…" Matt murmured to himself. "It'll be easier if it turns out they want a fight. But first -" he grimaced. "I guess I'd better have lunch - or dinner - or whatever it is. I wouldn't call it _food, _that's for sure."

After a short and thoroughly unpleasant meal, supplemented by brackish water from a nearly stagnant spring he found half-covered by the withered vegetation, Matt set off again in the direction of one of the rocky valleys he'd learned could be expected to shelter the strange creatures he'd been avoiding up till now.

Fifteen or twenty minutes of walking - a distance which looked deceptively easy until you experienced firsthand how difficult it was to keep moving against the overwhelming urge to forget everything and just let yourself drift into a disinterested stupor - took the red haired Guardian to an outcropping of rock which sloped downwards to form a shallow bowl-shaped hollow. One of the creatures, a black, vaguely humanoid one with an angular head and a frill around its neck, sat by a flat stone near the bottom, lazily playing with a small heap of skulls.

Taking a deep breath, Matt gave a quick glance around to make sure that it had no companions nearby, then half-slid, half-climbed down the jutting stones at one side of the hollow. His shirt was torn in several new places by the time he reached the bottom, but he scarcely noticed, all his attention fixed on the strange figure now only a few yards away. Something about it seemed familiar suddenly… not its appearance, which looked like something from a cheap horror movie, but a certain - something. A feeling.

Matt frowned and took a step closer, purposely scuffing his boots against the rock floor, but the black creature - person - seemed to take no notice. It was playing with the bones as if they were children's blocks, stacking one skull atop another until the teetering pile fell over. Then it gave a half-hearted chuckle and picked them up again. Now that he had a better view, Matt could see that it was dressed in what looked like the ragged remains of a trench coat, badly ripped and torn.

Throwing caution to the winds, Matt strode up to stand in front of the stone where the creature was playing its game, and when it still ignored him, bent down and scooped up one of the skulls before the other could take it. "Nice game," he said conversationally.

The black creature finally raised a pair of murky brown eyes, eyes that were strangely lost and haunted, to meet his and Matt nearly dropped the skull as a sick jolt of recognition ran through him. "A human?" it said vaguely. Definitely a masculine voice. "What is a human doing here?"

"Not exactly a human," Matt said casually, as he fought not to show any sign of the fury and terror racing through him. "Who - what are you?" He had to hear it.

The black figure paused a moment as if trying to remember, and then said in that same vague fashion. "Oh - I am a shinigami. My name is - Barr."

_Shit. Shit. Shit. What the hell is going on here? The Realm is - crumbling - unrecognizable, and the shinigami aren't any better - and he isn't just any shinigami. Even in this state, I'm not so incapable that I can't recognize another Guardian of Death… _

"And what are you doing, Barr?" Matt asked, keeping his tone light.

"Playing. Stack-the-Skulls." Barr's eyes slid away, his tone almost sullen. "Give my skull back. I was winning."

"But what were you doing before that?" Matt asked patiently. "Don't you have any - duties? Anything you need to do?"

The lost brown eyes met his again. "I don't remember," Barr muttered. "I think I was - looking for somebody. Once. A long time ago." He tried to look away, but Matt held his gaze.

"Were they important? This somebody?"

The shinigami shrugged. "I guess -" and for a brief moment, an almost painful hope flared in his eyes and seemed to burn away some of his disinterest and irritation. "Have you seen them?"

Matt kept his eyes locked on the other's, unwilling to lose the frail connection. "I'm looking for someone too. I think if you come with me, you might find your important person as well. Do you remember anything else about it?"

"No," Barr said, shifting uncomfortably under his gaze. "No. In fact, it was probably just a dream. The King told me so."

"You spoke to the King?" Matt said slowly. "When?"

"When he gave me my Death Note." Barr explained simply, pulling a slim black book out of his tattered coat.

Matt shook his head, feeling his thoughts spinning out of control. Even though he wasn't holding it, he could still feel the utter wrongness of the twisted power that had created the innocent-looking notebook; the same power that must have twisted the Realm. "No. Wait. You said the _King _gave you that - thing?"

Barr nodded. "The King gave it to me, just as he gave one to all the other shinigami."

Matt frowned. _This makes no sense. The King of Death would not destroy his own Realm. Besides, this - warping had already begun before he left the mortal world. Unless… _"Barr," he asked quietly. "Was the Queen with the King when he spoke to you?"

"There is no Queen, only the King of Kings," Barr replied shortly. "All shinigami know that."

Matt clenched his hands into fists. _Damn it. A false King._ _Usurper. Traitor! A trap, and we've all walked into it. Mello, you'd better be all right…_

Barr seemed a little more alert now; he wore an anxious scowl. "Why are you asking all these questions? You look like a human, but you don't feel like one. You feel like a shinigami."

Matt's fingers were itching for a cigarette again; he put them in his pockets. "I am a shinigami." Risk nothing, win nothing, and he needed his fellow Guardian on his side, even if he had forgotten who he was. He eyed Barr carefully as he added, "I'm also a Guardian of Death."

Barr clutched his Death Note tighter with a clawed hand, stuffing it protectively back into the meager shelter of his coat. "Guardian?" he muttered. "I don't know what you're talking about. But you made me remember something. Something…"

"Barr!" Matt said sharply as the other seemed to be drifting off into a haze of thought. "I must know where the Prince is." He sighed as the brown-eyed shinigami only looked at him blankly and changed his tack. "If this 'King of Kings' had any prisoners, where would he keep them?"

Barr hunched his shoulders in an awkward shrug. "I think I heard somebody mention something - about humans locked up in the caves a little while ago," he said grudgingly. "I was bored. I wasn't paying attention."

"Can you take me there?"

The frilled shinigami stirred his pile of bones with one clawed hand, averting his eyes. "Why should I? It would be a lot of work to get up and go over there…"

"Because if you don't," Matt said, taking great care to emphasize every word, "you will never see that person you were looking for again. You'll sit here for the rest of your life, playing with skulls." He tossed the bleached thing he was holding down onto the rock in front of the shinigami. "Is that what you want, Barr?"

The black shinigami hesitated, and Matt held his breath. He could not imagine anything more insanely painful to a Guardian than knowing they had failed in their mission, but he could also feel the strength of the spell of forgetfulness and indifference weighing down on his mind. Who knew how long it had been since Barr had given way to it?

Finally Barr looked up, and Matt felt a dizzying wave of relief as he saw that the spark of painful hope had reignited in his eyes. "I'll take you there," the shinigami mumbled, pushing himself to his feet laboriously. Standing, he was a full two feet taller than Matt was. "If I could find them - if it wasn't a dream -"

"It wasn't a dream," Matt reassured him.


	2. An Unlikely Alliance

_Hilo. Spinner13 here, adding her attempt at a chapter to FairMaiden's much more graceful attempt. Other than that comment, I'll just mention one thing, about Mello being the Prince of Death. Remember when Shidou showed up? He was interested and shocked, but not scared, and after questioning him sharply simply began ordering him around and taking it for granted that he would do as told. This was because he naturally DID hold certain power among the Shinigami, or would normally. Also, Shidou found him 'scary' because of the unnatural Death power he held - unnatural for an ordinary human, that is. _

_~ Spinner13_

_Disclaimer - If I owned Death Note, all three Wammy boys would have been side by side for Kira's defeat. _

_And without further ado, here's _

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><p><em><strong>Chapter Two<strong>_

**An Unlikely Alliance**

One thing Mello had prided himself on, his entire life, was avoiding prison throughout all the - questionably legal activities he participated in. To be perfectly honest, the idea of going to prison had always scared him, even before B-sempai had been locked up for life and used his phone call to tell Mello "Dying is better than this, so die before you get sent here, okay?"

The golden-haired teen had taken the words to heart and followed them to the letter. Unfortunately, it seemed there were prisons in… wherever the hell this place was, as well. Maybe it was Hell, but he had imagined it as being… hotter. And less boring. And besides, if it was Hell, what was Chief Yagami doing here?

The guard was changing. Mello sat up and began to take notice; if he pressed his face to the bars fronting the shallow cave he was stuck in and strained his eyes, he could see Chief Yagami in the next cave sitting up and taking notice as well. They had been in here for - how long? When the light didn't seem to shift and change in the same way it did in life, it was hard to tell, but he thought it had been about a week.

"Finally, you're here," the lumpy black Shinigami that had been sitting out front groaned, levering itself to its feet. It lumbered away, and the tall, white Shinigami that had approached took its place, standing with its back towards the cave-prisons.

"It's strange that they always stand with their backs to us…" Mello couldn't help muttering. "I mean, it's called watching the prisoners, right? But a very small amount of actual watching goes on." He glanced hopefully at the middle-aged man.

Chief Yagami gave him a glare. "Listen, I do not know where we are, or why we are in prisons next to each other, but until you are willing to tell me what information you have about this place, I do not think we can trust each other."

"I tried telling you," Mello objected, even though he knew it was hopeless.

"You tried telling me what sounded like the plot of a cheap high fantasy novel," the policeman retorted.

The ex-mafia advisor sighed. "But it's true, you know. I mean, you've seen the Shinigami, and we're now on the spiritual plane - is it so hard for you to accept a little more?"

"Accepting that you are apparently a 'prince' is not a 'little more'. I must admit…" Sorichiro paused for a minute, then continued reluctantly. "That during the Kira case, I was forced to accept many things I would never have believed before. The Death Note, the existence of Shinigami… I am willing to accept a great deal. But the story you insist on is simply too far-fetched." With a grim smile, he added, "And, for some reason I find it difficult to trust the young man mainly responsible for my death."

Mello sighed, turning away; it wasn't as if he had expected much better luck, but still… things would be easier if he could ensure the Guardian of his Princess was clued in and on his side…

The Shinigami guarding them seemed very familiar. Mello could only see the back of its white, ridged head, gleaming dully where the light at the edge of the shadow the cliff's overhang caused struck it, but he was sure he'd seen that texturing and form before. And if he was right, there might be a way out. But he had to find out first…

"Shidou!"

The Shinigami didn't turn, but he saw it flinch and hunch its shoulders, like a frightened bird ruffling its feathers.

"Shidou, I know you can hear me!"

"Oh, no," the white Reaper said unhappily to itself. It turned its head little by little on its shoulders like a frightened owl, peeking back at the prisoners before whipping around to face forward again. "I can't talk to you. The King of Kings said not to."

"Who the hell is the King of Kings?" Mello demanded. "Since when did Shinigami start taking orders from someone other than the King of Death? And while we're on that subject, why are there suddenly killing notebooks everywhere and why are all of you so damn ugly?"

Out of the corner of the eye, he noticed Chief Yagami was listening. Good. Perhaps this would help convince him.

"I can't talk to you," Shidou muttered, twiddling his twiglike fingers in clear misery.

This called for a little more force. Mello stood, grabbing hold of the bars, and moved as close as possible to the outside without actually pressing against them. "Shidou!" he demanded, glaring hard at the white Shinigami's back.

Another unhappy ruffle.

"Shidou, I command you to face me!" He felt the stirring of darkness in the pit of his stomach, and pulled on every drop of the power he had left. "I speak as the Prince of Death!"

Chief Yagami didn't have time to finish his snort of disbelief before Shidou turned and slowly, reluctantly, shuffled a few steps towards them.

"The King of Kings said that you don't have power anymore," he said uncomfortably, his cat-like eyes shifting from side to side.

"Look at me, Shidou," Mello commanded, his voice ringing. For a moment memory leaked back - a high cliff, looking to the King for confirmation and then calling out to the Shinigami waiting silent for orders below - "Is my power gone?"

Shidou looked up and shuffled back a few steps. "No, it hasn't," he responded instantly, scared, and followed up with a hasty "Your Majesty!" bowing with difficulty.

"Good Lord," Chief Yagami said softly. Mello couldn't help a slight smirk, but wiped it off his face quickly.

"I'm glad you understand that. Now, Shidou, what's happened to the Shinigami? I'm not recovering my memories properly, there's something blocking a large part of my knowledge… but I know that the Shinigami were once something much better and stronger than this, and I know that they once answered to the true Power of Death, not the twisted mockery found in the Death Notes."

Shidou thought about it for a moment; with a unsure "Hmm" he pulled his Death Note from the folds of his robe and inspected it.

"I… can't remember."

Mello stared. "What - nothing? When did this 'King of Kings' take over? How long has he ruled? When did the Shinigami start carrying Death Notes, and who first made them?"

"I can't remember," Shidou repeated, putting his round head in twiglike red hands and shaking it. "Please don't get mad, Prince! You're scary when you're mad!"

"Calm down! Something's very wrong here…" Mello sat back down, cross-legged as he propped his chin on his hand and thought. Someone had changed the Shinigami, and then made them forget how they had been changed. Someone was blocking a great deal of his memories and rightful knowledge as the Prince of Death with the same or a very similar spell. And furthermore -

"Why are you calling him the Prince of Death?" he heard Chief Yagami asking, and looked up, giving Shidou a nod to allow the answer. The white Shinigami turned to the older man.

"Because he is."

There was a long pause, in which Mello fought to hold back a chuckle and Sorichiro slowly realized that no explanation was forthcoming.

"What is the 'Prince of Death'?"

Shidou took a long moment to think about it. "The Prince who holds the power of the Shinigami realm… he's usually on the physical plane, though…"

"…And?"

Shidou shrugged. "That's all I remember. If you want to know more, you should talk to Alamo Justin."

"The advisor of the King!" Mello blurted out. The images of jewels suddenly rose to mind - rubies on the arms and sapphires on the legs and, sparkling eerily in the eye sockets, a pair of flawless diamonds… "The one who gave the King his eyes, all those centuries ago."

"Uh-huh."

"Who is the King?" Sorichiro demanded. Mello opened his mouth, imagined the former policeman's expression if he said the name in it, and shut it again.

"If I told you, you'd go right back to not believing anything of this."

Chief Yagami sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. As if the Kira case hadn't stretched his beliefs far enough, the past week seemed to have sought to destroy his view of the world altogether, and he was still torn between holding to his former reality or going with the flow.

"I'll accept that for now, but I want you to be as honest as possible in anything else." And for now, he would accept as much as he could without letting go of what he had been. He had the terrifying feeling that if he let go of anything, for the briefest second, it would be snatched away.

"Thank you. I know how difficult this must be for you - it was hard for even me to accept it."

A tenuous agreement reached, they turned back to business.

"Shidou, who do you serve?" Mello inquired sternly. This might be pushing the uncertain shinigami a bit fast, but he was impatient for answers, ones that would not be forthcoming until he at least found somebody else he could question.

"I don't know…" Another nervous bird-like ruffle. "It's not like I'm in the King of Kings' forces, but all the Shinigami are his subjects now…"

"But I have returned." Mello pointed out.

"Yeah…"

"And while I resided on Earth, you swore to serve me."

"I did?" Shidou wrinkled his ridged white forehead.

"Yes." Mello reached into his pocket, bringing out the precious half-bar of chocolate he had left. "Remember? You smelled the chocolate and were fascinated, and I said 'I'll give you some if you agree to work for me…' You sealed the deal with the Food of the Gods, Shidou." Biting his lip with the sheer psychological effort of giving up chocolate, Mello broke off a square and tossed it to the Shinigami. "Remember now? Answer me again, who do you serve?"

Shidou fold-bowed again, holding the chocolate delicately in his claws. "The Prince of Death!" He popped the confection into his mouth, cat-like pupils slitting in pleasure.

Mello breathed a sigh of relief. Shidou was well and truly sealed to his duty now - he would serve.

"Tell me, Shidou, where is the key?"

The Shinigami swallowed before replying. "Don't know. The guards aren't told where the key is. The King of Kings said it was because he didn't trust either of you to not somehow convince a guard to let you out - he said that both of you were 'strangely unaffected by the spell' or something like that. I don't know what he was talking about, though."

"The spell," Mello said to himself softly, then spoke to Chief Yagami. "Tell me, Yagami-san, have you had the feeling - getting stronger over the week - that if you don't focus very strongly on the people you care about, back on the mortal plane, that everything will just be yanked out from under you?"

Sorichiro was struck dumb at how closely the boy's question matched what he had been feeling. "Well - yes. But I spend quite a lot of time remembering Sachiko, Sayu and Light, so it hasn't been too strong."

Light? But - oh, of course. He didn't know what his son was yet. Mello decided not to mention that at the moment.

"There seems to be some kind of spell of forgetfulness on this place, but since we have 'anchors' in the mortal realm, that helps us resist it to a degree…" Mello blanched. "But we start to forget those who aren't alive," he whispered. "Dear God, I was beginning to forget Matt. How could I - I mean, it's not like I've forgotten him completely but…"

Sorichiro rubbed his temples. "Young man, I think you need to make this a little more clear -"

"Be silent!" Mello rounded, glaring through the bars as directly as he could; Shidou pulled his head down between his shoulders and Chief Yagami was shocked into silence. Mello spun around again and began pacing; after a long, tense moment he returned to the bars, his expression carefully neutral.

"I apologize," he said in a level tone. "Matt is my best friend, my second in command, and most importantly my Guardian." Yes… even back in their mortal lives, before either of them had remembered their callings, Matt had always fulfilled his job. Defending Mello, supporting him, tracking him down when he ran away, refusing to leave, insisting on helping… The memories brought a small, painful smile to Mello's lips. He had always wondered what he had done to deserve such a friend, not realizing that from before their births in the world they had shared an unbreakable connection.

"The idea… that I might be forgetting him…" he paused, then forged ahead. Yagami wanted the truth? Then that's what he'd get. "It scared me. Any enchantment of that sort must be a powerful one indeed."

He couldn't afford to fight with one of his only two allies. Though Yagami might be a Guardian and he was the Prince, the older man hadn't realized that yet, and perhaps he did demand respect for being the Guardian of his Princess. Mello reached through the bars, offering his hand.

"Yagami Sorichiro. In life we had many differences and reasons to be enemies, but this is the Shinigami Realm. If we do not ally, we stand little chance against whatever dark power is at work here. Will you work alongside me?"

After a moment of hesitation the former policeman took his hand firmly, although Mello was pretty sure he could hear him muttering something about insanity.

"With that done… Shidou!"

"Yes?" the shinigami quavered.

"Where is the key?"

"I don't know."

Mello closed his eyes, counting mentally in German. "Do you know… who WOULD know where the key is?"

"Alamo Justin. He knows everything."

"He would…" Mello muttered. Alamonia Justin must be one of the oldest - or the oldest - shinigami in the Realm. He dated back to before the King arrived, giving purpose to the scattered, wandering souls between death and life, for he was the one who gave his Eyes to the King in a pledge of loyalty.

"Shidou, go to Alamonia quickly and find out where the key is, if possible without letting him know why you want to know. Then return here. Can you do that?"

"Yes… but what if he won't tell me?"

"Then return and tell us! Shidou, stop stalling and obey!"

With a still-miserable "Okay" Shidou's wings appeared from his back and he took off. Mello sighed, sitting back.

"Amazing," Chief Yagami commented. "The wings are completely hidden and then appear much larger than you would think could be hidden…"

Mello gave a small smile. "Yeah. The hidden wings are a trait of the shinigami that hasn't changed." Reaching around, he brushed fingertips lightly over his own back, feeling the quiver of latent energy in his shoulder blades. "They're nearly invisible except when needed." Sliding down the wall, he let out a sigh of weariness, looking out towards the blank grey cliffs. Hopefully Shidou would soon return, with the key or information. He permitted himself a quiet glow of triumph. Sure, the whole situation might be looking down, but he had at least gained a valuable servant and cemented an unlikely alliance.

"We'll see each other soon," he whispered to the air, the image of a red-headed boy coming to him. "I'll find you, or you'll find me. I promise, Matt, I won't even start to forget you again."

Now all there was left to do was wait.


	3. Reunions

_Here's the next chapter - this one written by FairMaiden333. You lot had better appreciate it - I stayed up until one-thirty last night madly typing down half of it, and then finished it early next morning. On the subject of appreciation, though, thank you for the lovely review. It really helped in getting this next installment out. I need hardly say, we'll welcome more of them!_

_We need to know that we're not just hopelessly tossing chapters into a scary black hole._

_On that stirring thought, I leave you with Chapter Three._

_~ FairMaiden333_

_Disclaimer__ - I do not own Death Note. Yet._

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><p><strong><em>Chapter Three<em>**

**Reunions **

Matsuda was so nervous as he entered the hospital, his thoughts racing back and forth as he tried to decide what to say, that he was nearly blind to everything going on around him. He nodded and smiled and said 'Yes,' and 'Thank you' at what he hoped were appropriate intervals, and concentrated on walking forward instead of turning around and running. His mind only registered a few blurry images and sounds from the time his car pulled up to the hospital, to the time he was standing outside Room 109 - the annoyed voice of the man at the visitor's booth calling him back because he had forgotten his pass - hallways with soft carpets, his feet making no noise, and hallways with polished flooring, his feet clacking loudly with more confidence than all the rest of him put together - the bright face of a nurse dressed in a bright uniform who made bright conversation as she showed him to the right room, none of which he heard.

Then he was standing there, outside of the plain wooden door with gold numbers on it, and the nurse was looking at him expectantly. Matsuda swallowed, staring blankly at the swirling grain of the wood. It was silly to be frightened of a door. No, he was more honest than that, it was what was behind the door that he was scared of. But if he'd wanted to turn around and pretend he'd never been going to come here at all, he probably shouldn't have told Aizawa and Ide that he was going to visit, and that he'd tell them all about it when he got back. Right. He'd gotten this far, hadn't he? Now all he had to do…

Matsuda opened the door, and the nurse, serenely unaware of the turbulent inner struggle which had been going on three feet away from her, smiled at him even more brightly than before, chirped "Have a nice visit, Mr. Matsuda!" and trotted away.

Matsuda was completely unconscious of her good wishes, all his attention fixed on the still little figure lying curled up under the covers of the hospital bed. Its silence unnerved him. "Uh - hi there," he said tentatively, closing the door behind him. "I thought you might like a visitor!"

The figure turned its head away from him, its silence more discouraging than any words. Matsuda scratched his head and sighed.

"I brought you flowers," he said hopefully, taking a few steps into the room. "But - er - I forgot them in the car - I guess I was just thinking too much about getting to see you again! I'll remember them next time. Promise."

Silence, but he thought he saw the head turn towards him a little. Looking around, Matsuda dragged a folding chair close to the bedside and sat down, determinedly continuing his cheerful ramble. "I was talking to the doctor before I came, and he said you're doing really well - that it was really lucky you'd just gotten a broken leg and a few cracked ribs out of a nasty - er - accident like that. He said that as far as breaks go, it was a good one. Well, not good, but it'll be easy to heal. So I guess you'll be up and around in no time, right?"

The slightest hint of a shrug.

Matsuda sighed. "It's not like I want to push you too hard, it's just - I thought you'd want to be back on the job as soon as possible. Give you something else to think about other than - er - than - well, it might give you something else to think about," he finished lamely, keenly aware that he was not skirting around the subject as delicately as he had hoped. It probably didn't help that _he _couldn't stop thinking about it either, couldn't stop replaying it, scene by scene in his mind. Couldn't stop feeling guilty, angry, conflicted, betrayed, a hundred other emotions.

There were a lot of things he felt guilty about.

"I'm sorry!" he burst out suddenly, dropping his attempt at his usual cheerfulness. His shoulders drooped, an agonized shudder wracking his body. "I'm so, so sorry - I should've gone over to check on you right away, I shouldn't have left you alone like that - it's all my fault that you're injured like this!"

The slim little figure on the bed shifted, turning to face him, but the young man was so caught up in his self-castigation that he never noticed.

"I should've known that something like this would happen - I just botched it up, like I do everything else - I knew that they'd told you, and I was so shaken up from what happened that I never even thought of being there for you like I promised I would be!" Matsuda squeezed his eyes shut, nearly trembling with shame and bottled-up emotion. "I told you that you could always count on me if anything bad happened - and I let you down. I let you down. It's my fault - it's all my fault," he finished miserably. "Can you ever forgive me?"

A man standing on the execution dock with a rope around his neck would have had more hope in his voice.

A little hand weakly stretched itself out to gently touch the top of his bowed head, and the young man looked up in shock. "Matsu -" the voice, usually so sweet and lively, was scratchy and dull with grief. "It wasn't your fault."

Misa Amane met his gaze with a broken shadow of her former smile curving her lips.

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

Near closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before opening them again, glancing over the spiraling pattern of tarot cards which surrounded him. Though he had been lucky enough to spend more time in the company of his King than Mello had in the company of his, he still shared his foster brother's unfortunate fate in that his mentor and King had been killed by Kira before his time. Thus his education had been ended before it had even begun, for by the time he remembered who and what he was, the King of Life was already dead. He had never even received the full confirmation of his title and powers which should have been his when he reached the age of fifteen and became a man. Instead he had been forced, along with his foster brother, to tenaciously fight a deadly battle for which they were hardly prepared, a battle impossible to win in theory, against overwhelming odds in order to claim what should have been theirs by right.

So although he - no, _they _- had won the battle, at a terrible price, there were still so many things to do, so many things to be set to rights. Not only the Princess of Death but his own Princess must be contacted and brought to where they could hold council on how to make their next move; they needed to somehow make contact with Mello and find out what was going on in the Shinigami Realm, they needed to track down Light Yagami and ensure that he was handed over to the proper authorities, and the balance of power in the human Realm needed to be nursed back to health, a near impossibility while the Prince of Death was absent and his Princess, by all accounts, still dormant. Frankly, Near was less than certain that he could handle all of them on his own.

The only bright light in the darkness was that he shouldn't need to. If he could only find a way to reach him…

Near scowled at the tarot cards. It was an elaboration of a deceptively simple trick that he had invented in his thirteenth year; designed to give him glimpses into hidden truth. He'd used it a short time ago to confirm his suspicions about the false rules in the Death Note, but this time he had a different, twofold purpose. He wanted to gather intelligence as to the positioning of his allies and enemies. He also knew that using the card trick opened his mind in a way which should allow his King to speak to him, now that the 'airways' were no longer being blocked by Light Yagami. Or at least, he hoped fervently that it would.

Near let his mind drift first to Mello, finally allowing some of the bitter, gut-wrenching anxiety and grief he had been feeling every since his beloved foster brother had been killed to seep into his mind - it would help to fuel the spell. Swiftly, his fingers reached out, turned over a card to reveal the shining orb of the Sun - Mello's personal card. The two cards on either side of it were quickly flipped over, and Near set his mouth in a grim line as he read them. Five and Seven of Swords - capture and betrayal. Such a rush of dark foreboding came with the revealing of the two that Near shuddered, grimacing as he gingerly pushed them aside.

The Six of Swords and the Knight of Wands soothed his fears a little - Matt was free to act, and searching for his Prince.

The soft whisper of turning cards filled the air as Near continued seeking answers. From what he could gather, both Princesses were trapped within their own minds. Turning over the Death and High Priestess cards next, he was not surprised, though no less troubled, when his hand pulled back the discarded Five and Seven of Swords to cover the first two. It seemed that the King and Queen of Death were in no better straits than the Prince.

His hand hovered over the cards in a hesitant fashion when he came to Light Yagami, and when the single card he finally laid his hand on was turned over to reveal the Emperor, he decided that his defeated enemy was being shielded from his sight by some power. The same mysterious power which had supported his pretension to the Kings' thrones, no doubt… Near narrowed his eyes, reminding himself that he must not allow his temper to cloud his vision.

He nearly forgot his surge of anger in pure astonishment when he found that he could not draw a card for his Queen at all. It was very much like the shielding around Light Yagami, increased a hundredfold - a blank wall to his mind. He could not even hazard a guess as to who was responsible.

_Whoever they are, to prevent me from seeing her like this - she cannot be in this world. Shaky though my position is, I am the power of Life here ever since we defeated Yagami, and they could not hide her this completely from me. And if she is not here, the logical conclusion would be… _Near closed his eyes as his mind struggled to accept the truth. _The Tenshi Realm is suffering more than I thought. There were signs, of course - the Queen missing, the abnormally late arrival of my Guardian - the… defection… of my Princess - but I had hoped that these things stemmed merely from the twisted Death power at work in the world._ Foolish._ I, of all people, should have seen that the power of Life was being twisted as well. _

Near set his lips in a straight line. He would not make the same mistake again. All the pieces of information in his hands were coming together to make one terrible whole, to form one terrible word. A word which spoke not just of the deadly machinations of a human who wanted to play God, but of the warped, perverse power which had used him like a puppet for its own purposes, a power whose roots he now knew extended deep into the very Realms which he and his foster brother had sworn to serve, protect and defend.

Rebellion.

Now he needed his King's advice more than ever - if he could reach him, that is. Near's hand was steady as he reached out, but he could not prevent the gasping little sob of relief which burst out when he unerringly found the right card and turned it over. The eleventh card, bearing the symbol of Justice, lay cool and reassuring in his hand.

There was still hope.

"…Near…"

His head shot up at the whisper of sound, at the familiar, but oh so faint brushing of mind against mind. "L?" he whispered hopefully.

There was a short pause before the whisper returned, still faint and broken as if the speaker was struggling to make himself heard through a high wind, but bearing a distinct note of recognition and acknowledgement. "…Near… speak… easier… little while… wait…" There was a short silence and Near thought the fragile connection had vanished, but one more word was forced through the breaking link before the voice faded back into silence. "…Proud…"

When Halle carefully slipped into the room in response to Near's soft summons over the intercom, she was shocked at what she saw. The young man was kneeling in the centre of the room, cards haphazardly scattered around him. The face he raised to meet her questioning gaze was streaked with the tears still falling down his cheeks. His eyes were filled with a childlike, dazed sort of wonder - she could not remember ever seeing her Prince in such a vulnerable state.

"Halle," he said quietly, using one white sleeve to wipe his eyes absent-mindedly, "he's here." He was beginning to shake, the pent-up emotions of five years breaking into his usually calm and controlled voice. "_He's here_… after all this time…"

They had been separated from each other until very recently, and Halle knew that they had not had the time to build up such an unshakable bond as existed between Mello and Matt. But Near had never been so open to her before, and faced with the heart-breaking amount of trust he was placing in her by turning to her and letting her see exactly what the sudden relief and hope was doing to him, the Guardian of Life could do nothing but cross the floor to kneel beside him and hold her Prince securely in her arms as he cried.

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><p><em>Hey! Spinner13 here for the chapterly (is that even a word?) 'How The Heck Did They Come Up With This?' <em>

As you have just seen, Halle is the Guardian of Life assigned to the Prince of Life - Near. By the way, there's no romance - each Guardian and the person they guard have a strong bond of trust and love, and in certain circumstances it might be mistaken for romantic love (see later chapters) but it's not.

When the SPK first appear, Halle is standing closest to Near, on his left side. Indeed, Halle usually appears on Near's left side, if they're sitting or standing somewhere - in the final scene, or when they're talking to Aizawa, are good examples. To stand at the left hand of royalty is to hold a position of particular honor and trust, as the left side is the side of the heart.

The Guardians are intended as diplomats and messengers, alongside their main duties. Thus, in difficult scenes they show signs of 'trying to keep the balance' - an example being when Mello came to meet Near in the SPK building, Halle in almost every shot has one foot flat on the ground and one barely touching it, almost in the air. This is symbolism often associated with the Tarot card Temperance, which signifies juggling different powers or trying to keep a balance.

Also in that scene, Halle protects Near quite literally - when there is danger of Mello actually shooting him, she is the one who prevents him and reminds him of the greater goal - defeating Kira.

_More to come later, but we don't want to overwhelm you right now. Reviews are love, people!_


	4. The King, the Queen

_This chapter took quite a bit longer… um, sorry? Is there anyone reading this anyway? Readers can be so annoying… Except for you, Jazz mitoko, you rock. iatethecookie is also cool for reviewing. I guess what I'm saying is…. Review! You'll be automatically cool! And… and we will bless you, and you shall be protected from flesh eating demon bed babies!_

_(if anyone gets that reference, they are also pretty cool.)_

_So… yeah. I don't own Death Note, unless I am Tsugumi Ohba under the delusion that I am a sixteen-year-old fan girl… _

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><p><em><strong>Chapter Four<strong>_

**The King, the Queen**

The chains crisscrossed like the strands of a spider's web, anchoring in almost every corner of the rough stone wall and leading to the center point, where they wrapped and shackled a figure a few hundred feet above the floor. The figure appeared to be a young man; dark head drooped, hair grown long and ragged, spilling almost to his manacled knees. His skin was pale and bruised, and over his high cheekbones, concealing his eyes, was bound a bloodstained white cloth.

As the heavy metal doors across from him began to open, screeching heavily against the stone floor, he lifted his head slightly, a grimace of remembered or anticipated pain crossing his thin face. The broken and bent red wings that were chained behind him stirred reflexively, and the grimace of pain turned real and immediate as a choked snarl of anger and agony escaped from his clenched teeth.

A soft, heavy slithering sound, like rough silk on rock. He stilled, his face returning to a masklike calm.

And from the shadows of the tunnel behind the door, a shinigami emerged, the meager light that spilled into the stone room gleaming on its off-white hide.

Where the other shinigami were hideous, this thing was a monstrosity past any description. The only creature it could be likened to was a giant, deformed worm, its bloated and disfigured round body taking almost the entirety of the tunnel as hundreds of clawlike legs scrabbled against the stone to propel it along. When half its length was into the room it began to rear into the air, heaving itself to the level of the chained man.

A grim smile ghosted across his pale lips.

"Zurui."

Red claws scraped on the stone as the creature coiled itself, swaying closer. A voice that was far from human rattled from its throat.

"King." The tone was mocking.

"Always that." A simple reply, with a feel of truth. A shudder of anger ran along the monster's ugly body.

"Perhaps, but I am now the King of Kings! I have created power far beyond your pitiful grasp, even when you were at your strongest!"

"Heh." The man seemed to have taken note of only one word. "Beyond. I like that word."

The creature - Zurui - snarled, claws now digging into the prisoner's shoulder. The man barely flinched.

"Well, it is a word that should be useful! Escape is beyond your means… what I have done is beyond your understanding… you are beyond hope!"

A harsh, broken but genuine laugh rang out. The man tilted his head.

"The true power of Death will always be beyond your understanding, Zurui. You do not even understand hope… for Death and hope are always entwined. Hope shines brightest when Death is near. Only true darkness can glorify light."

Zurui growled again, deep in his throat, and a claw slashed across the captive's face. The dark-haired man coughed as blood trickled into his mouth, giving a slight hiss of pain before smiling again, silently seeming to look at him through the cloth concealing his eyes.

The silence hung unbroken for a long moment.

"Fool!" Zurui finally said, inhuman voice rattling in his throat.

"Yet still the King," the chained man whispered with a soft, rasping laugh that held no pain or fear.

"Enough of your idiotic chatter!" The part-white cloth was dragged roughly from the man's face, revealing dark eyes with a slight slant. The man's teeth clenched as the creature leant closer, a chuckle like rocks grinding together coming from it. "Time for you to surrender power to me, O former King."

o o o o o o o o o o

Their twenty-first escape attempt, and they had come so close!

"Good try, everyone!" the black-haired woman in charge called out to the others as they trailed dejectedly back into the dungeon. "We nearly got to the surface, I'm sure we'll get something to work next time!"

Miyako nodded dejectedly, her wings settling back into her shoulder blades. "If we had more people, or our weapons, it would be easy….

Michael came running to meet her, from the faint light in the darkness that was their camp; she caught the younger spirit in her arms, hugging him warmly.

"It didn't work?" Michael wore the form of the ten-year-old boy his mind and heart still were, and his eyes were full of disappointment as he looked up at her.

"No, not this time." She stroked his silky brown hair. In the days after the spell had taken hold, when she had lost her precious nephew to it, Michael had become as dear as a son to her. "But soon we shall be free again. Now that we have the Queen, nothing is impossible."

Fumio came up beside them, his book already out and balanced on his misshapen left hand, his personal reminder of how he had nearly fallen victim to the spell. "Are you two coming or not? Daisuke and Joseph apparently managed to kill something vaguely edible while we were away."

"Nice to know they had faith in our speedy return," Miyako commented, raising an eyebrow.

"Our last twenty tries didn't succeed; why should this one?" Fumio shrugged pessimistically, burying his nose in his book.

Miyako glared. "We must have faith. If we begin to lose our faith and interest in our struggle, the spell will take hold, and we will be reduced to monsters like the others, uncaring of anything."

Fumio nodded reluctantly. Out of all of them he had been the most indifferent to the Queen's arrival, even going so far as to ask why it should matter. Miyako had to defend him - she knew Fumio was good at heart, just not in the least optimistic. The only thing that had kept him from slipping under the spell's control had been… his secret.

"Miyako?" Michael was looking up at her questioningly. "Will you tell me another story while we eat?"

"Sure, I'm sure the others will welcome it as well…"

"It helps to think about the food as little as possible," Gray threw over as shoulder as he went past, laughing. The slight, dark-haired girl at his side laughed too, and he smiled down at her as they continued towards camp, holding hands; Miyako couldn't help but smile. When Gray, a kind but boastful and rather rough-edged shinigami, had offered to train the cynical but delicate new recruit, everyone had expected a transfer within the week - but the opposite was true. When the spell had taken hold, it was Gray and Karin's love and concern for each other that saved them from nothing more than the bonelike deformity on Gray's jaw and the odd armoring across Karin's stomach.

Thinking of love, Miyako couldn't help but feel sorry for the Queen; it must be hard for her to be separated from her King like this, especially after they had barely met and parted on such bad terms in the human world. Her feelings would be a tangle of confusion and pain, mixed with longing… it was no wonder she barely spoke of the King except when necessary.

The story she told tonight had best not involve the Queen, but involving the King was unavoidable. The shinigami demanded it, and it was only natural that they should; the King was the life and soul of the land, the one who had made the shinigami to what they were before Zurui's rebellion in the King's brief absence.

A half-hour later, the scattered conversation lulled and she saw her chance. Setting aside the bone she had been cleaning of questionable meat, she cleared her throat; most eyes turned towards her and Michael huddled nearer, his eyes glowing with excitement.

"Long ago it was," she began, eyes half-closing as she crossed her legs and set her hands on her knees "shortly after the Kings had chosen their Princes from the people of the mortal realm and given them their power, when the King of Life was sent a message by the Gods: 'Light cannot exist without the shadows, and shadows cannot exist without the light. They must find balance or both meet destruction.'

"The King knew what this message meant; as they began their work in the mortal world the tenshi had begun to bring back reports of strange creatures - apparently known as shinigami, who held power over those in the world already set on the path to darkness. The shinigami themselves were those that held great darkness in their souls, and in their work after life strove to pay off the debt upon their spirit."

Miyako swept her audience with a glance; Gray's eyes were dark and distant, Karin's oddly hard and bright. The serial killer and the poisoner… Michael looked up at her curiously, waiting for the story to continue, and she felt a lump threatening to rise in her throat; she took a quick breath and continued strongly.

"So the King called the Prince of Life, and said to him: 'I know you are yet young in your powers, but it if I send a warrior the shinigami might think it an open threat before my messenger even reached them. Will you take the message of the Gods to the Shinigami Realm?'

'The Prince said that he would, and taking in hand his white staff he set upon his journey; the way was not long, for tenshi and shinigami could slip between the planes as swiftly as the wind even then, but he was not familiar with the place he was venturing. At last he found himself on a plain of dark, lush grass, a night sky arching overhead; almost a scene that could have come from the mortal world, but with a different energy about it…"

Nostalgia was now evident upon many faces, and intense concentration upon the Queen's, as if she were trying to remember something. Miyako closed her eyes, letting the story sweep her into another place and time, when shinigami and tenshi first made true contact…

"At length he came to the palace. The shinigami he passed looked at him strangely, but let him pass, some laughing at the foolishness of this strange white-clad being who came to the heart of darkness; and at last the Prince of Life reached the hall of the palace…"

_The young man took slow, careful steps into the shadowy hall, pulling the pool of light around his feet with him. Everything about him was white or pale - the white hair that fell about his face in loose curls, his white feathered cloak, the white staff he had in his hand. His light grey eyes peered into the shadows at the end of the hall, where two thrones were faintly visible in the gloom; one was occupied, the black cloak hiding all recognizable features of the seated man except the slim hands steepled in front of him, and the other was empty. The newcomer came to the center of the hall and stopped, waiting for the King of Death - as he knew it was - to speak. _

_The shinigami tilted his head to the side, looking at him with interest. "So this is what one looks like up close." He gave a sudden laugh, harsh and rasping, that sent shivers down the Prince's spine. "I'd been hearing reports of strange creatures, who held power over the part of humanity that we could not touch… the creatures some of humankind call angels, some tenshi. I prefer the second. So tell me -"_

_A door creaked open, somewhere in the blackness, and the Prince of Life's eyes were nearly blinded as a flash of gold came through the shadows. The youth that had come through the door shook his brilliant gold hair back from his eyes, giving the white-clad boy a scrutinizing glance, then hastily pulled his black hood up over his head as he walked to the side of the smaller throne, perching on the arm. _

_The King continued after a quick nod to the other shinigami. _

"_So tell me, little tenshi, why have you come here? This is the territory of the shinigami, and we do not take kindly to intruders."_

_The Prince of Life took a deep breath, straightening himself. _

"_The Court of Life has received a message from the Gods, and it concerns the shinigami as well."_

"_Really." The King's voice was cool, revealing nothing, but the tenshi's statement drew a stronger reaction from the dark Prince._

"_If the Gods had a message that concerned us, why would they have given it to you instead of us?" He glared antagonistically at the white-clad boy, who looked levelly back._

"_We might not be human, but we are still not fit to question the ways of the Gods," he responded quietly. "I do not know. We merely were given the message, and I have come to deliver it."_

"_Let us hear this supposed message, then," the King said lazily, leaning his head on his hand._

_The light Prince bit his lip in anger, but spoke in a calm voice. _

"_Light cannot exist without the shadows, and shadows cannot exist without the light. They must find balance or both meet destruction."_

_He paused for a long moment, but the shinigami simply exchanged looks and then continued to watch him silently. Wondering how they could possibly miss the meaning, he explained. _

"_It refers to the tenshi and shinigami realms. It seems we must make some sort of truce with each other, or we will both meet destruction."_

"_I interpreted that much," the King said with a definite trace of coldness in his voice. "I am not an idiot."_

"_Why would the tenshi and shinigami need to form a truce?" the dark Prince broke in almost immediately, sliding off the arm of his throne and coming to the King's side. "We deal with completely different parts of humankind. And we're a lot more powerful than you."_

_The Prince of Life's hand tightened on his staff. "A bold statement. But one that holds no truth."_

_Both the shinigami laughed, the sound echoing off the walls - and joined by more laughter. A few of the lower shinigami had entered during the short talk, blending into the shadows, and now were watching eagerly. They were young in their duties, and their darker instincts were strong - they wanted to see this foolish, pathetic creature of Light and Life be crushed by their King and Prince. _

"_We walk in the darkness," the golden-haired youth jeered, stepping to the edge of the throne; the Prince of Life flinched as the shadows lapped greedily at the light around his feet, "which would destroy you with a mere touch. We are the stronger."_

_The King sank back in his throne. The hot-headed Prince seemed intent on arguing with the strange messenger alone, and he really had no objection._

Miyako paused, taking a deep breath. The cave was absolutely quiet but for her voice, and the occasional faint soughing and groan-like noises coming from the thick blackness beyond their torchlight.

"Our records are few, and our royalty are not fond of recalling this story… for while it holds events of great importance, it perhaps did not show anyone involved in the best of lights. But it is known that the Princes traded heated words, only provoking each other more as they continued, and finally the Prince of Life raised his head regally, and spoke calmly. 'I can see that the shinigami are too stubborn and foolish to believe even the reality of a most important message.' And in his anger he simply turned to leave, striding towards the door he had entered by, although his heart was heavy and secretly he wondered if it was his fault the message had not been accepted."

_The figure in white spun on his heel, walking towards the door that was faintly outlined in grey light among the shadows._

_The dark Prince, long since stepped down from the dais the thrones sat on, curled his hands into fists as his blue eyes narrowed at the other._

"_Where do you think you're going?" _

_The tenshi ignored him, moving away in the grace of righteousness. The young shinigami's mouth twisted in a rush of wild, animalistic anger. His hand flew out._

"_Damn it -" and even the King began to start up from his throne at the tone, his dark eyes widening as he realized what might happen "-DON'T WALK AWAY FROM US!"_

Miyako closed her eyes and opened them again slowly as the words settled into the minds of her listeners; most of them, having hard it before, had grave expressions, but Michael and the Queen looked similarly anxious.

"Our Prince was young in his power, and even more reckless in anger back in those days than he is now. Without any clear thought on his part, power surged through his enraged words and struck out at the tenshi - and the Prince of Life crumpled to the ground with a cry of pain as his legs suddenly gave way under him."

Michael stared with his mouth hanging open, Gray drew on the ground with a stick, and the Queen gave a soft gasp.

"And here the events fade into slight mystery again, for whilst we know the bare facts none concerned has cared to hand down the details. The King of Death was no fool, and knew that a full war between shinigami and tenshi would tear the mortal realm apart, and so left our Realm in the hands of the Prince and took the wounded tenshi back to the Realm of Life to make amends. It is known that an agreement was reached, following the oldest rules in existence for both realms… 'Blood for blood' is surely a phrase familiar to you, and although this was not as serious as a killing, the Prince of Life was robbed of full use of his legs and something was demanded in return. The King stepped in, unbeknownst to the Prince, and paid the debt himself… and returned to the Shinigami Realm with a bandage tied over his empty eye sockets."

The Queen drew in her breath, sharply hissing through her teeth. Miyako glanced at her; the dark-haired woman was staring at the ground, her eyes wide as she seemed to realize something.

"Yes; the King had paid for the injury with his eyes, and the Prince was filled with guilt and sorrow. But he was resourceful - he had not become the Prince of Death for nothing. It was then he made his first journey to the Human Realm since he had become a shinigami, and collected from the store he had laid up while a thief on earth two perfect diamonds of surpassing beauty. Having done this, he went to a powerful shinigami, one who had resisted the changes the King had brought about more than most.

'I know how you can find favor with the King,' he said slyly, knowing the shinigami desired above all to be in favor with those in power."

Time to offer a role to one of her listeners, to bring the audience out of the story's world a little. Miyako turned to Michael.

"You might be able to guess what the Prince's idea was."

The brown-eyed boy blinked, shaking himself out of a fascinated stupor to respond. "Well - there's that shinigami you've mentioned before, Alamonia Justin - who has diamonds for eyes. Did - was the Prince's idea for Alamonia to give the King his eyes?"

"Yes. Alamonia was quickly swayed by the promise of the King's favor, and the gems - for in life Alamonia had been a miser, and very fond of jewels and gold. Shinigami eyes are unlike those of humans, and as such can be easily transferred - Alamonia gave his permanently to the King, and from then on has possessed diamonds in place of eyes."

She looked directly at the Queen as she began speaking the end. It contained the answer to a question the dark-haired woman had asked her a few times before.

"So that is why the King holds the power of shinigami eyes, even when he is reborn in the mortal realm; they are still faintly linked to Alamonia, who never leaves the realm, and as such cannot lose their power. And it was with those two events, those two injuries, that the Shinigami and Tenshi realms first began to forge their bond; and it was not a link to be forgotten, for ever since that time the Prince of Life has been crippled when he lives in a mortal form, and the King of Death is plagued by the power of the shinigami eyes - for in that brief time before he remembers his true nature, they are a curse. The living were never meant to have the eyes of the dead." Miyako sat back on her heels with a soft sigh. "Thus it is said, thus it took place."

Slowly, the silence melted away as the small group of shinigami began to talk among themselves again. Michael sighed deeply, leaning against her, and she stroked his back; she was grateful that the Queen's little band had learnt already that she disliked open applause or immediate comments on her stories.

The Queen, Miyako noted, took one of the torches and went slightly out of camp to sit on a ridge that projected out over a small gorge. After waiting a few minutes, Miyako tapped Fumio on the shoulder (their signal for him to keep an eye on Michael) and followed the dark-haired woman.

In a minute the shinigami reached the ledge and sat down cross-legged next to her queen, looking out into the darkness with her.

"It's still so hard to believe," the black-haired woman said abruptly.

Miyako listened silently, resting her hands on her knees as the Queen continued haltingly.

"I mean - to hear you and the others talking about the King and telling stories about him, and then thinking of him, as I knew him - it's just hard. I mean, he killed innocent people!"

The elder shinigami bit her lip. The Queen would probably not react well if she said 'What an honor for them!' even if it was meant sincerely.

"They were at the end of their life spans. Shinigami are not meant to tamper with life, and the King did not," she pointed out quietly. _And he was so careful about it. Those three humans were lucky, in the views of anyone from our Realm - to have the very King of Death be the one at their crossing to the other side! _"Zurui, however…" She grimaced. "The shadow powers he was tampering with stemmed from someplace much darker than the Shinigami Realm. I am sure he was somehow involved with the 'Kira' killings you describe."

"Yeah." The Queen sighed heavily, leaning her elbows on her knees and propping her chin in her hands. "It's just overwhelming, along with everything else, having to deal with the fact that… he is evidently the King of this place." She gestured around vaguely.

"You are the Queen," Miyako said softly, although she knew what the response would be. "If you had let it, your heart would have recognized him as the King long since."

"Don't call me that," the dark-haired woman said sharply. "I can tolerate it from the others because it lets me help them, but you should know better. I'm not the Queen."

"I'm afraid I cannot accept that decision of yours, my queen."

"At least don't use it all the time!" the other woman snapped, raking a hand through her dark hair distractedly. "Just call me Naomi."

"Very well… Naomi," Miyako answered, handling the unfamiliar name carefully, like it was breakable. "But I hope that soon you will come into your knowledge once more."

Naomi Misora shrugged almost angrily, looking away, and the two shinigami fell into silence; one looking down fixedly at her hands, scowling, and the other gazing serenely into the darkness.

* * *

><p><em>The main reason this took so long was the 'legend' part. Gah, that took <em>forever. _And I really hope it turned out better than I think it did - legends are difficult. This particular one - fun fact here - was inspired by listening to 'Playing With The Big Boys Now' from the Prince Of Egypt movie while trying to come up with ideas. _

_A few minor things on Naomi Misora being the Queen of Death. I'll be including more later, because even though my sis thinks it's obvious, I'm not 100% sure everyone's realized who the King of Death is yet, and a lot of the clues depend on his identity. _

_She dresses in black leather in her __**every **__appearance (except once, in a flashback, I think she might have been wearing a grey shirt…) and black leather is very popular with the Death people (look at Mello). And… holy cow, there isn't much else I can say without bringing 'him' into it. First chapter that uses his name, I promise I'll put lots of the suggestions we found in! _

_Other than that:_

Card_: Naomi's major arcana card is the High Priestess. _

Music_: 'Playing With The Big Boys Now'. Listen to it, it's fun._

Inspiration_: Look out for this from now on… Shinigami are usually going to be loosely inspired *coughcoughrippedoffcough* from villains in other animes, books, movies, et cetera. Think you recognize somebody, want to suggest somebody? Drop a review and mention it at the end!_

_And if you find 'clues' supporting our general scheme of things in the anime or manga, feel welcome to tell us._

_- Spinney_


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